


Starstruck by You

by Anticipatio



Series: He's My Collar [8]
Category: Campaign (Podcast), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Aliens, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Frottage, Groping, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks, References to Knotting, Relationship Negotiation, Safeword Use, Safewords, Tickling, Xeno, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anticipatio/pseuds/Anticipatio
Summary: It's been on their minds for ages. They know it's silly, but talking about it felt like it would tear the fragile flimsy that made up their camaraderie.





	Starstruck by You

The fluttering in his stomach was becoming a source of concern for Blue. At first, he thought it was a medical issue and made it a priority to be checked out by the medical droid. After all, a sick Minister of Propaganda was not part of a good image for the Empire. Other than the usual bum leg (perfect anti-rebel propaganda, at least) and persistent heart palpitations from caf consumption (he was being monitored, _it was fine_ ), he was given a clean bill of health.

Still, he made it a point to document what he was doing in extraordinary detail every time he felt it, convinced that there was a pattern of occurrence. It was during one of these moments taking notes that he figured it out: it was Zero. Heat tickled his face when he made the connection, but some rational killjoy part of his brain was not at all shocked under the circumstances. His eyes darted to glance at the individual in question perched on his desk, fluidly snipping at chunks of Blue’s orchestral music spread out around them as holo projections and twirling the bits of data in elaborate gestures to weave alongside heavy beats and dark bass.

He couldn’t look away.

Thrill and dread trickled down his spine and his mind started to race. He thought of every little instance of a squeezing grip on his shoulder or killing a man on his command without hesitation or bringing him caf in the middle of the night or fucking him into his underused bed until the stress of the job melted into a primal slurry of helplessness and heat; it all came to him in a rush that seemed almost too storybook to be real.

Whatever romcom his life had been spiraling in to was enough of a twisted joke by the universe that Blue fully believed that this was not a dream. He inhaled sharply and turned back to the legislation he had been proofreading before Zero came in to bother him, the aurebesh suddenly looking so daunting and the chrono ticking far too slowly.

Blue thought more on the little things, of their fingers brushing as they walked and the fingers pressing into the knots of his shoulders and the cooing murmurs that made him positively jelly, trusting in Zero to take care of him completely. It was becoming difficult to resist squirming and blushing in his seat like some sort of schoolboy, and _force,_ even that little inkling of a thought was something of a contributor to his fluster. 

“You okay?”

The sudden concerned question made him flinch. An instinctive plastic smile plastered onto Blue’s face defensively and he replied, as smoothly as he could manage in his distress, “What do you mean?”

Zero rolled his eyes on his helmet and gestured to the projection of political jargon in front of the minister, “You’ve been staring at the same paragraph about color coordination for a few minutes, boss.”

“Y-yes, well… It’s a very important aspect of—” he scanned the document over with a sour frown, “—uh, the construction of community outreach centers?”

There was another eye roll projected on his screen as Zero leaned in to Blue’s personal space and tapped on his forehead. “Seems like,” he said, voice pitching ever so slightly lower, “You’ve got something on your mind other than work right now.”

The fine hairs on the base of Blue’s head stood up. He swayed in his seat and sighed as a hand curled around his cheek. Emboldened, Zero traced a robotic finger down to tug on the collar of the ministry uniform, pressing against the patchwork of bruises at varying stages of healing that marked the human’s pale neck. The flutter in Blue’s chest was too light and too airy to be related to caf or stress, but the heat oozing down to his groin was far too distracting to let him dwell.

A niggling little feeling persisted in the corners of his thoughts. Even as Zero’s helmet released with a hiss, even as his moans were swallowed by a jagged, toothy mouth. His mind went (almost) blank as their clothes came halfway off, barely enough for Zero to rut their cocks together in his hand.

Blue clung to him the entire time, squirming against the desk he was pinned against and inadvertently pushing office supplies and datapads off with a series of clatters. Zero’s free hand groped and kneaded into his flesh, pressing into his tender bruises and lighting up nerve endings across his body. Overwhelmed, he twitched and cried out wordlessly, arching as he came. 

His completion made a fire pool in Zero’s abdomen, hot and tight. Deliriously, he was disappointed that he took his helmet off if only because he could have snapped pictures of Blue’s blissed out expression, cheeks peaked with pink, brows furrowed and kiss-swollen lips ajar with his panting.

The swollen heat of Zero’s knot as the skin went taut with its ballooning, his cum coating Blue’s softening erection and his own hand as he growled throatily. They went still in recovery, panting heavily into each other’s mouths until exhaustion set in. 

The office wasn’t an ideal nap spot, but the armchair Zero regularly inhabited provided enough comfort for him to sit with a gangly human propped against him. He glanced down to examine the ruffled, half-done (or half-undone, in this case) clothing and splotches of pink overlaying Blue’s skin, tracing constellations between freckles and through cloudy marks that made him look like he’d been ravaged by some wild animal.

Not entirely wrong, Zero supposed. He was possessive.

Which was becoming a problem, he mused as he pushed away some of the mussed-up hair that fell over Blue’s sleeping face. His heart warmed at the pinched brow and murmured complaint, and even that bodily response wasn’t scary anymore. More inconvenient and annoying. 

(He was lying, a little bit. The thought of confronting these emotions made him feel nothing less than absolute _terror._ )

So he distracted them with sex. It was working, for a while, but the look he caught on Blue’s face as his thoughts obviously and uncharacteristically trailed off beyond his work… Well, it probably wasn’t healthy to be coping like this.

The human made another sleepy sound against his chest, burrowing his face into the patch of fur he found. It took conscious effort to stop his muscles in the area from jumping due to unfamiliar contact, but even that was becoming easier to block out, even enjoy. Zero indulged in the intimacy and touched his bare lips to the top of Blue’s head, smelling stale caf and vaguely citrusy soap under the overwhelming scent of their coupling.

It was also probably incredibly ridiculous from an outside perspective that the duo, who thought of themselves a couple in their own heads and engaged in secret romantic gestures among _other things,_ would be too emotionally constipated to talk about lo…

Loooo…

“Eugh,” Zero spat, twisting his face. There was a shuffle against him and Blue sleepily whined, “What?”

He hummed, uncertain, and teased, “You smell gross.”

The human shifted to press more tightly against him and sneered. “Charming.” His back curved tantalizingly in a lazy stretch, pressing them impossibly closer together, and he groaned, “I have so much work to do.”

Zero drew a finger up and down Blue’s spine, cataloging a shiver under his fingertips. “You do,” he murmured, “But you could just do it here.” A blush lit up his employer’s face and he chuckled, turning Blue to sit snugly between his legs with little effort.

He was so small to Zero, gangly and light with thin, fragile skin and bones that could shatter like glass. Logically, he was aware that humans were hardier than they appeared, but the ease at which he could manhandle and bruise his lover made him irrationally protective beyond his salaried duties. His arms wrapped around Blue’s middle, hands brushing against the smooth surface of his stomach under his undone clothes.

Grumbling all the way, Blue fished his glasses from the end table and wriggled to settle. Zero leaned them both back as comfortably as he could, lazily nuzzling against the wild mess of red hair that tickled his face. It almost felt like it burned like real fire, from the surface of his skin to the core of his body, and he dutifully ignored the (totally rational, probably accurate) thought that it came from nothing short of infatuation. 

Blue hated distraction, and he put up a token effort of struggling against his captor as he tried to run through the dry political documents he was separated from momentarily. This was, however, entirely too comfortable and becoming entirely too familiar for him to feel anything but fondness for. His head was starting to feel heavy and sore from a lack of caf, but something in the furthest, most neglected reaches of his mind stopped him from leaving Zero’s embrace, even for as long as it took to make a cup.

He had it bad, and Blue wasn’t sure what to do with those emotions.

The more he tried to steer his thoughts away, the more he veered into overthinking their relationship. The worst of it was the crippling self-doubt that all he was good for a quick kriff; he couldn’t shake the thought that he was somehow so repulsive in character that this was the only way Zero could deal with him in a romantic context. Totally irrational, considering their positions in the moment, but.

Blue’s glasses flashed to life and he fumbled for his gloves, tossed onto the back of the chair in a passionate fit. Zero seemed to enjoy making a game out of mucking up the minister’s important work through light, teasing touches. It would be so easy to say the word and actually get something done, but his soft, stifled gasps betrayed how much Blue enjoyed the attention, even as he continued to pantomime noncompliance.

That was probably giving Zero more ammo to work with, now that he thought about it. His back arched against scraping fingers dragging down his front, while another hand used the movement to pull his ass as flush as possible against the gank’s crotch. A small sound escaped from him in a hiccup, egging his captor on and making the aurebesh once again incomprehensible from lack of attention.

But his mind wouldn’t stop wandering, and soon it turned from idle to racing thoughts, even as he whimpered and ground back against Zero. Firm hands wandered over Blue’s exposed torso and he twitched, unable to decide whether he wanted to flinch away or lean into the touch, and something about that seemed ever so slightly wrong. He felt his breath catch and body tense unnaturally, like some unseen force was pressing down on his ribcage, making breathing so, so difficult.

Stray fingers brushed against his throat, and something fragile in him snapped. “D-droids,” he wheezed, and everything seemed to halt. His guard’s wandering hands shot away like they were burnt, leaving raw nerves exposed to the prickly air of the ship, the cold that was normally comfortable freezing his core. They ceased entirely, and Zero frantically whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t—,” Blue choked, halfway to a sob. There was movement that he could barely keep track of, and suddenly he was alone on the armchair with Zero kneeling in front of him with an expression that Blue could only assume was concern, completely foreign on his exposed face.

Kriff.

Blue’s eyes were as wide as saucers, pupils dilated. His breath was unusually shallow and stilted, limbs shaking, and Zero suppressed the urge to panic, vaguely recollected a similar happening years ago. He wracked his brain for a solution and babbled, “O-okay, Adnau, you’re okay.” He modulated his breathing to match a human’s rhythm, despite the discomfort, and fretted, “Look at me, breath with me, buddy.”

Zero watched with the tiniest spark of relief as Blue’s eyes shot towards his mouth and his breathing shakily began to even out. It was a slow change, but the white-knuckled grip on the armrest loosened and the pallor of his face started to regain some color after several tense minutes.

“ _Mirjaal,_ ” the minister finally gasped, “Not to be confused with _Mirshe’jaal._ ” He stopped shivering and went slack in the chair, seemingly exhausted.

“What’s the difference?” Zero asked, if only to keep him talking while he remotely consulted the Bluebird’s medical droid.

Blue closed his eyes and took another deep, rattling breath. “One is a panic attack,” he explained, “and the other is a stroke.”

The medical droid slipped into the room, brandishing a small syringe and a glass of water. Blue weakly glared at it, eyeing the syringe suspiciously, and Zero would have laughed if he weren’t terribly concerned. “That wasn’t a stroke, I assume?”

“At my age, I sure hope not.” The return of his ward’s biting wit soothed Zero, even as he hissed and swatted at the droid after an injection of something presumably calming. The remaining paleness of his face and deliberate, shallow breaths still worried him. “You okay?” he echoed, hesitating before reaching out to touch Blue’s arm.

“I’m… Not sure,” Blue admitted, brutally honest, and the tension left his body in a long, heavy sigh. “I don’t think so.” His face had that _look_ again, and suddenly everything they built up over the years felt precarious, like every word threatened to destroy the whole thing.

Zero’s breath caught in his throat. He wished he had his helmet on.

Blue glanced up at him, looking tired beyond his youth. His hair had fallen over his eyes, and Zero pushed it aside. There was a moment of hesitation, and Blue leaned into the touch. They were silent until it became uncomfortable, before the human murmured, “Didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Force, that made his gut twist until he was nauseous. He didn’t know what to _do,_ even as they locked eyes. Zero rubbed his thumb against Blue’s temple and bumped foreheads, huffing irritably. He opened his mouth several times to speak before his lips were caught against Blue’s, tender and deep and pouring out a backlog of emotions that probably spanned for years with how he’d treated Zero like a precious gift in that time.

Soft human hands came to cup the sharp points of his jaw and traced circles into the bone, unafraid of the danger inherent in the thick cords of muscle and disregarding it for a loving touch. He hesitated again, making several aborted gestures before curling his fingers into Blue’s hair, purposefully careful to not pull and ruin the moment of intimacy. 

Their lips moved together fluidly, and it became so easy to forget their roles beyond the doors of the room where politics alienated them and potential threats watched for any signs of weakness. Blue pushed it all aside and whispered mindlessly against Zero’s mouth, “ _Cyar’ika._ ”

It was as much of an admission as it was a pet name. He flushed bright, heart pounding in his throat as his brain caught up to him. It almost hurt, and as much as he wanted to borg his emotions right out of his head, Blue couldn’t ignore the hot thrill that made the tips of his fingers tingle as he combed through knots of wiry fur.

Zero separated them and he whined, leaning to chase after him. He was stopped by a firm grip on his shoulders and his eyes fluttered open, suddenly stricken by anxiety once again. “What did you say?” his guard prompted, soft and breathless but nonetheless serious. The word warmed the tip of his tongue, completely natural and completely unfamiliar all at once, and for a moment it felt like it’d stop him from talking altogether.

“ _Cy-cyar’ika,_ ” he breathed again, a clumsy tumble from his lips where before it poured sweet like honey.

His eyes met Zero’s with a sort of grim finality, like what he said was what would finally tear them apart for good. “What does it mean?” the gank asked after the pause, and Blue wasn’t sure if he imagined the quiver in his voice.

How could he express its meaning fully? He made several attempts to speak, progressively curling in on himself defensively. “It’s… It’s a pet name. That you, uh, give to someone you—”

“Love,” they said simultaneously, cutting into the tension like a spoonful of cream in a bitter cup of caf. Blue shuddered and swallowed loudly. He examined Zero’s face desperately for every little display of emotion he could recognize on a face he was slowly, tediously mapping.

The twitch of Zero’s lips made Blue feel the flit of his heart in his throat. They were silent, not uncomfortable but unsure of how to proceed. “I’m—” Blue started, cut off by a mouth against his, frantic like he was about to be _devoured._ It only lasted for a passionate minute before they parted once again, his guard caging him on either armrests. 

“Say it,” Zero growled, rough in a way that made Blue flush. He suddenly found himself with a lap full of gank and he felt feverish with strong, corded arms pulling him close and a familiarly alien heat blanketing his body. His hesitation obviously frustrated Zero, and suddenly there was a hand coiling around the back of his neck to bring their faces close once again. Their bodies molded together, making Blue’s head suddenly feel heady, and Zero demanded, “Don’t play coy, _say what you wanna say._ "

And he _really_ didn’t mean for it to happen, and he certainly didn’t mean to _break_ his most trusted friend and employee, but. 

“I love you.”

It kind of broke Zero, even though he was expecting it. Not in a 404 way (if that happened again he was gonna have to get Blue to overhaul his security protocols from the ground up because of how much it _sucks_ ), but he had never seen Blue look so small and helpless, even when he was the target of assassination attempts or thrown to the senate like an ysalamiri to a pack of wild vornskyr. It broke him on some deep emotional level that he always knew existed, but never thought would come to light.

Raxis had been right, in the end. Despite the weapons and machinery, he was a nurturing creature. Maybe that’s what made him a good bodyguard, but now he was lost at sea with nothing but his instincts to guide him.

Instead of feeling fear, though, he was positively _giddy._

Zero brought their mouths together again, slow and chaste and so unlike what they were used to. He was suddenly made aware of how Blue’s lips were slightly chapped from the caf, and how that contrasted with the softness of his human skin under the gank’s skimming fingertips. They fit together so oddly with their lanky, mismatched limbs and differing facial anatomy, but Zero couldn’t say they fit _poorly._

“Idiot,” he purred affectionately against Blue, pausing to nip at his lower lip, “Love you too.” Somehow, it felt so completely normal to say. The human sighed through his nose and ran his hands down Zero’s shoulders, slipping under the undone jumpsuit and running through his patchwork fur.

 _That_ was new. He avoided taking off a majority of what he wore when they had sex, opting to reveal the bare minimum to his lover. In any other situation, he’d be shoving Blue’s hands away while trying to come up with an excuse to tie him down (granted, not too difficult to accomplish). Instead, he let the shiver wrack his body and his muscles jump at the contact, the touch-starved part of his brain absolutely _singing,_ even as he forced his discomfort aside.

If the little needy sounds were any indication, Blue seemed to approve of this. Zero ran his tongue over the reddened irritation of Blue’s lip and curved against him, crowding the human deep into the plush chair. He sat back to examine his handiwork, the bright flush and dazed expression on Blue’s face and his body slack and pliant.

“If you want me to stop—”

“No!” Blue blurted, coughing to regain control of his voice. “No, this is… It’s good.”

Hm, ‘good’ was a new way he described the situation. It was always just ‘fine’, but the sudden shift in the atmosphere lowered his inhibitions and made him yearn for more.

His hands wormed further into Zero’s clothing and traced slowly down tight, unexplored muscle, past straight scars and ports and metal and wires that interrupted the planes of thick, course fur mottling his body. It shouldn’t have been attractive, at least by human standards, but Zero was the pinnacle of physical strength and power that Blue could never hope to achieve. He was suddenly aware of the dull purple bruises ringing his wrists and couldn’t help the little moan that bubbled up his throat.

His sounds were matched with a deep, persistent purr that vibrated against him where their chests touched. “How do you do that?” he murmured, hands coming down to cup the gank’s ribs to feel the sound.

“Not all of us are primates, buddy,” Zero laughed, a strange layered effect over the rumble tickling Blue’s fingerprints. “It’s m’bones and throat and stuff,” he explained, weaving his fingers through the minister’s and bringing them up to palpate his neck.

Blue let his hands wander and dig ever so slightly into the dense muscle. He glanced up curiously to gauge Zero’s reaction, silently pleased at the waver of his purr. He heard the tiniest, pleased sigh escape from his guard and furrowed his brow, “This is weird.”

“So’s your short human refractory period.”

“That’s not—my _what?_ ” He winced as Zero opened his mouth to retort and shushed him, “Nevermind, we can discuss that later. I meant,” he took his hands from Zero’s throat and let them fall to his sides, “I meant the… The _talking._ ”

“We always talk.” Zero mulled over his thoughts for a moment and shrugged, “I mean, _you_ always talk. At me.”

Blue gave him a withering glare and sighed, “Not like this.”

It was easier to tease the words from him rather than admit it himself, Zero mused. It was all about his patience versus Blue’s impatience. “Like what?” he asked, feigning sweet and demure, “Like best buds?” He ran his hands up Blue’s arms and ground ever so slightly into his hip, his own body prickling all over with interest.

“Nngh, _Oni._ ” Blue shuddered and buried his hands and face into his guard’s fur, brows drawn and lashes fluttering.

Zero shot a snarly smile and halted, settling on his knees just enough to lift his weight off of Blue’s lap. “I don’t know what you mean,” his robotic hand tangled into the human’s hair and scraped menacingly against his scalp, “You’re going to have to be more clear.”

Blue whined and met Zero’s eyes. His pupils were dilated, and the clear blue of his irises had gone dark, but there was still a touch of concern in the way he searched Zero’s face as if looking for answers to some unknown question. “I thought you had a problem with short human refractory periods,” he complained, halfway to a groan.

“Never said I had a _problem_ per say,” Zero murmured, breath fanning over Blue’s face, tantalizingly close. Frustrated, the human bucked to chase after friction. His head was jerked by the hair as Zero sat up more fully, obvious disdain painted in his expression. “Now tell me what you mean, kid.”

“L-like,” Blue gasped haltingly, fingers digging into the hard muscle of Zero’s side to feel the flex of his abdominals as he maneuvered. “Like we’re boyfriends.” 

He sounded uncharacteristically fragile and insecure, all of the bombast in his character reduced to a meek whimper. Zero sat his weight fully back into Blue’s lap suddenly, relishing in the moaned response with an indulgent shiver, and palmed at the minister’s hardness trapped between their bellies. 

He cooed into Blue’s neck sweetly between sharp, harsh nips. “After all this—” he punctuated his point with a deft twist of the wrist, shocking a mewl from his lover, “—If you didn’t call us boyfriends, I’d be pretty pissed.” He ran his cybernetic hand down Blue’s chest and side, scratching fresh lines across his skin and biting blotches of wine-colored bruises into his pale shoulder.

Blue panted and writhed under the attention, arching into Zero’s ministrations. “ _Kriff,_ ” he gasped, fingers scrabbling into the flesh of his lover’s shoulders. His hips thrust into Zero’s hand as much as he was able while pinned and he babbled, “Please— _ah_ —please, love you—!”

Zero thumbed over the head of his cock and caught his mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss. The gank swept his tongue across Blue’s blunt human teeth and dragged his own slowly across the human’s lips, swallowing every gasp and moan he could capture. His artificial hand skirted Blue’s chest to scrape punishingly at his nipples, and the sudden spark of pain set him off.

The minister went taut as he came for the second time that evening, making desperate, inarticulate sounds into Zero’s mouth. The hand jerking him off tightened a fraction and continued at a languid pace, prolonging his orgasm until he complained with pained, overstimulated whines. 

Their mouths separated with a string of saliva connecting their slicked lips breaking, and Zero shuddered, the fur on the back of his neck visibly prickling with the motion. Blue smoothed his hands through the standing fur and murmured, breathless, “You—what can I do for you?”

Zero wiped his hand on his thigh. “I’m good,” he replied, voice gravely and pitched low. He smirked and nuzzled by Blue’s ear, “Not all of us have freakishly short refractory periods, human.”

Blue jumped slightly at the feeling of a wet nose on the sensitive skin of his neck and smacked one of his hands weakly against Zero’s shoulder, “ _Cold_ —Stop that!” A pair of hands gripped his sides and squeezed, fingertips dragging across sensitive skin and making him bark out a sudden laugh. “ _Di’kut!_ ” he choked, tugging at whatever fur he could tangle his hands in, trying in vain to pull the smiling face from his neck and the tickling hands from his sides.

After a few moments of struggle, punctuated by strained squeaks from between Blue’s gritted teeth, Zero took mercy and sat back on his knees. They winced in tandem at the tacky feeling of drying cum pulling apart, but it was easy for Zero to ignore the matting of his abdominal fur to instead commit Blue’s face to memory, flushed, panting and pissed. “We should go on a date,” he blurted, finding his voice before he lost his sudden burst of courage.

Blue’s face went through several complex emotions before settling on something that, for once, made him look genuinely happy. “Yeah,” he smiled, totally real and soft with fondness, “We should.”

**Author's Note:**

> Heya friendos! Been a while!
> 
> So, headcanons: Humans and near-human species are so prolific in the SW universe even now because everyone's a coward who doesn't want to fuck aliens. To reconcile, I suggest that humans have relatively short refractory periods compared to a lot of species. Like, in my head ganks probably are good for about a day or more depending on their mods and whatever.
> 
> Also, I _love_ fic stuff about detachable dicks and all, but I also really like the idea that there are just certain parts of his body that Zero just did Not Touch as much as he could. I mean, fucking up his hormones and brain to the extent he likely has probably has an effect on most of his functions as it is, why would you screw them up even more? Hence why he doesn't just have robotically enhanced dicking, to justify my last headcanon (lol).
> 
> Lastly, the more I write Blue, the more I write him as an asshole version of myself. Lactose intolerance, panic disorder, fuckboy, hot gay mess, etc.


End file.
